Hello, Reality
by invaderjewel
Summary: Dib is stuck with a love, that he's not sure he wants to accept yet. Whatever it is, Dib isn't quite sure what he feels. Can Dib figure himself out?
1. Zim's House

**Hello, Reality**

An Invader Zim (ZADR) FanFiction

It had been a starry night. The sky was a deep navy blue, with a hint of pink circling his house. What was left of the sea breeze was slowly pushing on the pedals of a few flowers in a nearby garden. A few laser beams could be seen from across the street, inside the windows.

I stood there, with my back straight and the breeze gently rubbing my exposed stomach. My maroon burlap bag was whipping softly to the rolling of the wind. I shivered as my piercings, on my face and bellybutton, made my skin go numb.

I walked slowly from my motorcycle. I looped the keys onto my chain and looked at the house I was absolutely itching to get inside. He had invited me over, and now I was shivering. No, not from the wind, but from the ache in my heart and the twist in my stomach. The wind was only making it worse, and the only thing warm on my entire body was the skin behind my hair and my toes, tucked safely inside my steel-toes boots. Adding to the yet horrible pain, my piercings hit my stomach with each walk, and rubbed my skin raw and rawer with each stride.

I reached his house. Before ringing the gothic-looking doorbell, I looked behind myself, as if I could see my own footsteps, and maybe run back to my motorcycle and get away before he noticed me. But no, the motorcycle, the houses, and even the garden was all left behind, hidden by the blanket of darkness. You could only see the faint imprint of skylights outlining the futuristic houses in the distance.

I closed my eyes as I reached in for the doorbell. The sudden sting of my glasses' cold metal sliding down my face forced them to remain shut. Before I could ring the doorbell though, I heard metal-heeled footsteps, and a green figure, wearing its usual pink and black jumper, opened the door.

"Why hello there Dib," It said.

[A/N: hehe, clever aren't I? I made you guys THINK. 8D]


	2. Bloody

**Hello Reality**

Chapter 2

I shivered in fear as Zim stared back at me, with his maroon eyes peeking at me in wonder under his smooth, shiny bob-cut hair. I shook and stuttered as the burlap sack fell from my shoulder and on the ground from my shoulders slouching down.

He looked at me and watched the sack fall to the ground. He picked it up, almost putting no muscle into it at all, and took it inside.

"Why don't I show you inside?"

I pushed my glasses back up my face and walked inside the warm house. The sudden change in temperature changed my once cold piercings warm, and gave me goosebumps. Zim dropped my bag on the purple couch and opened his arms in a sweeping motion.

"Welcome to my home…" he hissed, and his long, serpent-like tongue slithered between his zipper-like teeth.

I had another reason to get goosebumps though. Zim was looking very… interesting. His very appearance, his very reason for being there, to greet me, was absolutely turning my stomach. He whipped his head to the side, without moving his body from his grand position, and revealed his beautiful, sparkling, maroon eyes. I was lost in them. I saw into the alien's soul. I could feel the cold, dark, beating heart within the Irken. Zim didn't notice, and I wasn't going to stop unless—

Tiny metal footsteps, at small, tiny intervals, sped though the living area. It ran up walls, down the walls, and around the walls. I watched it go and held my ears. It was screaming, and jumping, acting like a toddler. Zim shouted, out of his normal hiss, in the obvious accent of his home.

"GIR! Quiet, I'm speaking!"

The robot sped out of the room, without ceasing his screaming. I was out of my trance, but I still was dazed by the ringing in his ears from GIR, and by the amazing looks of the alien.

I looked back at the alien. His eyes were covered by his hair, yet again, which was good, or I might've fainted. I was so… mesmerized. Zim was everything to me, even when we were just children and still fighting. We didn't know anything, and after I had gotten over my 'cycle' and traded in my trench coat for piercings, I was done with the paranormal, and now devoted my life to bugs. They were almost as interesting as watching my lo—

No. I didn't love him. He was just a friend.

Zim walked to the kitchen.

"So… you want anything to drink? I have Poop, Poop Cola, Diet Poop…"

"Diet Poop, please."

I shook my head. I sat down on the couch rather uneasily. Being polite, I kept my back straight and his legs uncrossed, with my arms in my lap. Feeling like I wasn't good enough, I gently touched to smooth back my scythe-like hair with a pale hand. My hand caught on my hair piercing, and it cut me.

Zim brought back the drinks. In one claw-like hand, there was a Diet Poop. In the other, there was a clear can, with white Irken writing on it. Zim stopped and looked at my hand.

"What did you do? Is that blood?"

I nodded and he looked at me funnily. I supposed his blood looked different.

He dropped the cans, which were caught by two claws that suddenly sprang out of the floor. They sat them on the nearest table and went back into the ground.

Zim ran down one of the long, intertwining halls. He brought back a futuristic-looking bucket, filled with purple liquid. It looked like gelatin, but when Zim put his hand in there to swish it around, it moved like water. I glared at it uneasily, and looked back at him.

"It's water," he said. "Or something similar. We don't have hydrogen on Irk, so it creates a solid when no one's touching it. When you do, it turns into a liquid."

I let out a puff of air, held in fear. I supposed it was alright..

Zim picked up my hand. I suddenly took in the little air I had just let out. His cold hand touched mine. It was a awing, painful way to grasp the little bit I knew of him, I could see in him. He pulled my hand to put in the 'water'. I clenched my fist. He stared at it for a minute, surprised I was resisting. He ran his eyes, gently, slowly, up my arm, up my neck.

I easily recognized the sure sign of lust in his eyes, even so hidden by the god-like color and the smooth, rubbery hairpiece. He opened his mouth ever so gently. His voiced cracked as his own voice tried to speak.

"I..." he spoke softly, ever so gently, ever so seductively.

The 'I' slowly changed into his regular hiss, his regular aggressive tone.

"…Put your hand on this."

He quickly washed my hand and put a bandage on it.


	3. Lust

Hello Reality Chapter 3

I had been lost in the alien's eyes for a while. Zim was cleaning up, moving around briskly while he instructed me on how to hold my hand and put pressure on it and such. He never made direct eye contact with me, nor did he look anywhere but the floor and occasionally the clock, hanging in the kitchen.

I tried to grab his attention, but he tore his eyes away from mine and talked faster.

"Dib you really should be getting home soon—wait! Put that cloth over your index finger. No, over there. Dib!!!"

So I played along. I became "worried", like a child almost.

"Oh no! What do I do, Zim?" I asked, my eyes wide, and my body shaking.

He looked at me and mumbled something under his breath. His language was foreign to me, and even in English when Zim mumbled, you could sense his accent, trying to tear away from his lips and jump back into their own language.

While he mumbled, I could sense his breath. Even while sitting on the couch, for where he had looked at me before, his breath grew long. I could still smell the minty, almost cool scent. His appearance, everything about him, was always knocking me off my feet.

Zim finished cleaning up his mess from earlier, and pulled the fabric off of my wound. He was extremely careful not to touch my skin at all. I watched his slim, claw-like fingers fiddle with the cloth. They interlocked in and out of each other, creaking with every move they made.

Zim threw the cloth away. I pulled my hand away as quickly as I could. Zim's hands were soft to the eye, and his expression was even softer. Even behind his fake hair, his eyes were easily readable. I could sense the caution, the withdrawal, the hold-back. He was looking at me, up and down. I looked at him the same way.

Our eyes met. He pulled away from me once again. He quickly grabbed the Poop Cans off of the table, and passed one to me.

I touched the can. It was warm from sitting on top of a space heater, an Irken one at that. Still, Zim's cold blooded fingers touching the can still were there. I could feel where he touched it. Not even considering the soda, I closed my eyes and drank in the little of Zim that I would know tonight.

Zim noticed, but didn't say anything. He studied me, and sat back on the couch with me. Even with my eyes closed, his eyes bore into my spine such as a ghost haunted a human. I winced. Even with my eyes closed, I could sense his posture slump, the corners of his mouth droop, his eyes grow pinker and softer.

"Dib."

I cocked my head down. A slight, ever so gentle breeze started brushing my hair, and the breeze touched my curves. It kissed my forehead and slid my hair so it covered one eye. My eyes, still closed, tightened.

My piercings lingered with the sting of the cool midnight air. In my mind, I could sense Zim's face getting closer. His hair sweeping my face. His clawed, cooled hand on my face, sliding down my neck. The gentle rubbery feeling of his lekku brushing my bare, ridge-like spine. The images from all of the dreams, all of the fantasies played through my mind such as a cub played with it's mother. I loved Zim. I loved his gentle whisper, even in such a harassing, menacing tone. I loved the way he walked, the way he balanced his head on the broad, wide, enthralling shoulders of his.

He had enticed me and lust me for as long as I had known. I had never felt as strong as a passion as I had felt with the mysterious, eye-catching alien. Not when I went to the dance with Zita. Not when I had snuggled up with a baby Gaz as dad hadn't come home, not with anyone.

God, my hands were shaking, my eyes opened gently and my heart pounded against my fragile ribs. My shirt constricted me, my boots swelling. The chain hanging from my pants seemed to snake around me, tightening me and holding me and cradling me. Zim stared at me as my breathing grew shorter, my eyes grew anxious, and my hands tired.

I pulled my look away from Zim. His eyes, probably not knowing they were surveying me, blinked quickly and his hands clenched around the seat of the chair.

"I think it's time you return to base, Dib."


End file.
